


Alliance

by kcanwrite



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), Real Person Fiction
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Angst, M/M, Post-Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-22 14:59:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3733177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kcanwrite/pseuds/kcanwrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Almost a century ago, the world was demolished by nuclear war. The few survivors thrived and now live in small villages dotted across the harsh and erratic landscape. Their lives are dominated by survival and petty land wars with neighboring clans. Their only enemies were the Earth and each other, until a new enemy descended with weapons both ancient and futuristic. Can two opposing clans join forces to defend their home, or will their century-long rivalry get in the way? When two young men from each clan meet in the wake of an outside attack, they’re forced to form the first alliance or face certain death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cooperation

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by The 100 but is not an AU of the show. You don't need to be familiar with it in any way to enjoy this fic!
> 
> Thank you to Lily (phangirlingforphan on Tumblr) for beta-ing this for me! You should definitely check out her fic. She's one of my favorite writers!
> 
> Please note that the rating may change as the story progresses.

Debris whistled through the air, peppered with the pang of gunshots. The velvet night sky was alight with streaks of fire. They'd never make it out alive.

Phil gasped a ragged, searing breath into his lungs. The air was saturated with toxic fumes and smoke. He coughed and spat the acrid taste from his mouth, dragging the back of his hand over his lips. Startled cries of pain and anguish pierced his ears, and he wished they hadn’t been uttered by his people.

He swept blindly through the dirt and located his arrows—spilled when the force of a blast had knocked him off his feet. His bow was still intact and he notched an arrow instinctually, searching for a clear target.

He stood just inside the treeline surrounding the scattered and burning remnants of his village. Many of the structures had been demolished by their newfound enemy, leaving the villagers without food or shelter. Most of his people had escaped alongside the neighboring clan. The two clans had been violently settling a land dispute when the first bomb hit, destroying the healer’s hut and the crucial medical supplies inside. In the ensuing panic, masked figures invaded the village, wielding weapons that hadn’t been seen in nearly a century. They dropped small explosives from the sky and fired mercilessly upon villagers armed with nothing but rudimentary handmade weapons. Phil had nowhere to go—this was his home—so he watched from the trees as the most stubborn of his people struggled to fight back. His arrows proved useless, bouncing off the enemy’s armor. Occasionally, he struck the small areas of exposed flesh on their hands or necks, but his success rate was far too low to sway the battle.

Movement in the brush twenty yards away drew his eye. Phil immediately took aim and waited. A dark-clothed figure sat up slowly and peered through branches at the burning village. The orange and yellow light glinted off metal gripped in the figure's left hand. He lifted what appeared to be a small dagger over his shoulder, shakily pointing at the target with his outstretched right arm. He was an amateur, untrusting of his own skills.

Phil adjusted his own aim and loosed an arrow. It struck true in the figure's left forearm just before he could throw his dagger into the fray. He cried out like a child and clutched helplessly at the wound as he fell to the ground.

With caution, Phil approached him, his expression stoic and unyielding. He stood over the figure, a man no more than eighteen years old—practically a boy, and took in his appearance with one swift sweep. The boy’s cheeks were lined with mud simulating the war paint of the rival clan, and his eyes were wide with fear. Phil squinted at him in the darkness. The opposing clan had only brought warriors today, and this boy clearly wasn’t trained to fight. Curious, Phil stepped forward again.

"Stay back!" The boy spluttered. "I'm armed!" The dagger shook violently in his right hand. He cradled his left arm against his chest in a pathetic attempt to quell the pain of the arrow.

Phil pursed his lips, bent forward, and plucked the knife from the boy's fingers with ease. He threw it to the ground behind him. "You shouldn't be here. You're not a warrior."

A defensive expression passed over the boy's face before he thought better of it. He licked his lips and mustered courage, puffing up his chest. "I intend to prove myself in tonight’s battle." The boy regained his footing, crouching before Phil as he stood to face him. "Now move if you want to live."

Phil didn't budge. “There is no battle.”

The boy faltered and fought to regain his composure. “Excuse me?”

"This isn’t a battle; it’s a massacre. Your people have lost, as have mine. Both have retreated, presumably to your nearest village."

“No." He shook his head. "They wouldn’t do that. Besides, you’re still here. And that,” he nodded towards the smoldering village, “looks like a battle to me.”

Phil gritted his teeth. “You need to leave. Now. You’re not safe here.”

The boy studied Phil for a moment, wincing with pain when he thoughtlessly attempted to cross his arms. “Why are you letting me go? Weren’t we born enemies or something?”

Phil shook his head. “You’re not the enemy tonight.” He adjusted the arrow notched in his bow, glancing around them cautiously. “You’re not even a warrior. You’re just a boy.”

"My name is Dan," he corrected icily. "And my people recognize me as a man."

"Dan," Phil relented. “You need to leave before this gets any worse. These woods won’t be safe much longer.”

“Whatever.” Dan picked up his pack, slinging it over his right shoulder. He winced again and hissed a breath through his bared teeth.

Phil stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. He’d returned his notched arrow to its quiver and his bow to its sleeve. Phil inspected Dan’s left arm intently. “I can fix this.” Without warning, Phil forced the arrow through his arm, snapping the head off and pulling the end out smoothly.

Dan didn’t have time to complain before it was over. He breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. Though, you’re the one that shot me, so…” he trailed off.

“You need to get out of here.” Phil interrupted curtly as he wrapped a bit of cloth around the wound. “Go home. Your people have likely returned already.”

Another boom sounded, shaking the ground beneath their feet. Leaves and twigs rained from the trees around them.

Dan jumped in surprise but soon regained his composure. He cleared his throat and spoke just above a whisper, “I don’t actually have anywhere to go.”

Phil reloaded his bow and surveyed the area, ready to loose an arrow at the slightest threat. “Find somewhere.”

“You don’t understand.” Dan shook his head. “My village is gone. It’s just ash and rubble. My people scattered to surrounding villages, but my—” He choked on the words and cleared his throat again. “My family’s gone. It’s just me now.”

Phil eyed him warily, never lowering his weapon. Sudden comprehension cleared his furrowed brow. “You thought the warriors would take you in today.”

Dan nodded.

With a sigh, Phil returned the arrow to his quiver and found Dan’s dagger on the ground, passing it to him. “Take this. Be ready to use it. What’s in your pack?”

“Um,” Dan fumbled with his bag. Phil’s quick surrender caught him off-guard. “Not much, really. Um, some water, maybe a few berries. That’s it, besides my knife.”

“It’s hardly a knife,” Phil scoffed.

“Well, what have you got?” Dan demanded.

Phil pursed his lips and glared. Dan’s point was made. “We can probably make it out of the danger zone if we work together. Can you do that?”

A series of rapid gunshots sounded just before a blood curling scream. They both cringed.

“Yep, yeah, no problem.” Dan adjusted his pack and jumped at the opportunity. “Let’s go!” He was suddenly anxious to leave, walking past Phil, deeper into the woods.

“Stop!” Phil rushed to grab Dan’s arm, forcing him around to face him. “Do you have any idea where you’re going?” When Dan didn’t answer, Phil continued, “That way is just as dangerous. We need to head for your clan’s territory.” His brows scrunched together and he ruffled his dark hair as he thought through the possibilities. “With any luck, they’ll offer us shelter. My people may even be with them. We can get there by noon tomorrow if we keep a good pace.”

Dan nodded in agreement and followed Phil, trying not to think about the way his expression had softened at the hope of finding his people.

Gunshots rang through the air and flaming debris flew into the woods, lighting one of the trees aflame just above their heads. Phil flinched ever so slightly and started running, waving for Dan to hurry as well. A forest fire wouldn’t take long to spread if no one stopped it.

Thin streaks of orange shot out from the horizon, cracking across the purple sky. Morning was approaching, and the sun would light their way soon. Dan and Phil raced toward the horizon, skirting tree trunks and exposed roots.

The sky was fading from pink to blue when Dan stopped Phil, desperate to catch his breath. He bent over with his hands on his knees, gasping air into his lungs. “Please, it’s been ages. I need a break!” He stammered between breaths.

Phil gave a solemn nod, reluctant to stop moving. Their quick pace had taken his mind off the night’s tragedy. The thought of his neighbors, friends, and family suffering in the aftermath wrenched his heart. He imagined the kind old woman who always waved hello to him being overtaken by fire, his cousin being trapped under the armory’s fallen roof, his mother screaming for help as the village children were taken out one by one by catapulted debris. He shook his head roughly, and forced his thoughts to Dan and the situation at hand. “Okay. Be sure to drink some water. You look terrible.” His physical and mental exhaustion let his cold, emotionless demeanor slip for a brief moment. “We’ll refill at the bend up ahead.” He sat down on the forest floor with his back to a large boulder and smoothed the fabric of his pants absentmindedly.

Dan rolled his eyes and took a grateful swig from the pouch. He settled on the ground next to Phil, reclining against the rock with a satisfied sigh. "Thanks." He wiped his mouth and offered the water to Phil. “D’you want some?”

He shook his head and waved it away. “No, I’m fine.”

Dan sighed. “Look, I don’t need you getting all dehydrated and passing out on me. You’re the only one who knows the way. Take some. Like you said, we’ll fill up at the river.”

Phil clenched his jaw and considered for a moment. He was parched, and it got the better of him. He took the pouch, gulping mouthful after mouthful. When he’d finally drunk his fill, he averted his gaze and passed it to Dan. “Thanks.”

“Hey, no problem.” Dan cinched the opening and returned it to his pack. "You know, I don't think I got your name. Here I am, embarking on some epic journey with a total stranger."

Phil eyed him skeptically before answering in a gruff voice, "It's Phil."

Dan nodded approvingly. "Phil." He tried the name out on his tongue. "Not bad. It'll do." He offered him a teasing grin.

"Thanks," Phil replied, words dripping with sarcasm. "I was really hoping for your seal of approval."

Dan sighed, his grin falling. “Look, you don’t have to keep up your whole stoic warrior vibe with me. I’m not gonna think any less of you if you let your guard down once in a while.” Dan twisted his hands together as he pondered his next words. He let out a heavy breath and kicked the dirt. “We’ve both had our villages destroyed by these—” he paused and continued with disgust, “people. I mean, I kind of know what you’re going through right now. If you wanna talk—”

“I’m fine!” Phil interrupted, rushing to stand. “We need to get going. It can’t be much farther.” He brushed himself off and turned toward their destination.

Dan put up both hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, sure.” He stood to join Phil. “But, can we walk now? I think we’re out of the danger zone, or whatever you called it.” He gestured to the forest around them. Birds were chirping, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves. Otherwise, it was beautifully quiet.

Phil nodded distractedly as he studied the forest floor. The path wasn’t as obvious here, as travel was rare between the two clans’ territories. “This way.” He pointed toward the sunrise and led Dan onwards at a graciously slower pace.

“Thank god,” Dan mumbled, ducking his gaze as he walked beside Phil.

The tranquil sounds of the forest seemed almost eerie after the night they’d had. Hundreds were dead back in Phil’s village, from his and Dan’s clans alike. One by one, their villages were being burned to the ground without warning or mercy. How could the birds carry on singing as if the world wasn’t crumbling around them an acre at a time? But then, they’d done so before. The birds had survived worse than this, and Dan and Phil would, too. Against all odds—maybe even against the best interest of Earth itself—humanity found a way.


	2. Connection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emotions run high when Dan and Phil get lost under the grueling sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to Lily, phangirlingforphan on Tumblr, for beta-ing this for me! She's got some new fics out that you should definitely give a read!
> 
> I intended to post this Monday, but it's quite late, so I apologize. Sometimes, life just gets in the way. I'm already working on chapter 3, which will be somewhat shorter, as it was all originally supposed to be part of this one. I decided to split it for a lot of reasons. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading!

Phil stared through his reflection in the still, clear water. Just a foot below the surface, a blanket of smooth stones made up the stream bed. Garnet seaweed and slick, green moss weaved amongst the rocks, creating a colorful display. After dark, Phil knew the moss would glow as bright as stars, lighting the way for any unlucky straggler travelling beyond nightfall. He hoped he and Dan wouldn't find themselves in such a predicament, cowering at every noise and shying away from shadow. Phil pushed the troublesome thought away and fully focused on his reflection for the first time. It was a terror to behold. Ash and soot streaked across his pale skin, and his dark hair stuck out in every direction. He looked more like a warrior than he ever had before. Without pause, he punched through the image with both hands and gathered handfuls of water to slap against his face.

“Shit, what’d the river ever do to you?” Dan was ushering water into his pouch a little at a time.

Phil shook his head and took a sip from his cupped palms. “This isn’t the river. It’s a stream.”

Dan rolled his eyes. “Okay, what’d the stream do then?”

“Nothing.” Phil didn’t look at him. Instead, he focused on the vegetation growing between the rocks, prodding the moss and leaves with his finger.

“Is that stuff edible?” Dan asked, a bit too much optimism coloring his words.

Again, Phil shook his head. “It’s medicinal. Well,” he backpedaled. “It can be, if there are few other options.”

Dan leaned away. “Are you sick or something?”

“No, but your wound hasn’t been dressed. We can’t allow it to become infected.”

Phil leaned over and took Dan’s forearm, cradling it in his hands as he eyed the hastily wrapped arrow wound. Dan sucked in a breath as Phil lifted the cloth. It was stuck to the dried blood and half-formed scabs. Phil unwrapped it with greater care, but it still pulled Dan’s skin, popping off in sections. Dan grew more tense with each painful tug. When the cloth finally fell to the ground, they both breathed a sigh of relief.

Still holding Dan’s arm, Phil stood and led him to the stream. He held it just over the edge and trickled gentle droplets onto the wound, letting them trail over the sensitive flesh in thin rivulets. Dan winced but didn’t pull back. His eyes fluttered closed as he concentrated on the water babbling downstream and the gentle breeze in his hair. When he felt Phil pressing something wet and slimy to the wound, he screwed his eyes shut and thought of home. At this time of day, his mother would just be coming in from feeding the chickens, and his father would be out in the garden, tending to the herbs and vegetables. His little brother was likely running back and forth between them, asking to help. First meal would be fresh off the fire, and the rest of the village would be gathering to eat. Suddenly, a harsh wind blew, stinging Dan’s skin with sharp particles of sand. The faint smell of imagined smoke struck a painful memory. He felt nauseated as images of gray ash and blackened rubble played across his mind’s eye. The truth was beginning to choke him when Phil spoke just above a whisper.

“Okay, all done.” Dan’s arm was still settled in his outstretched hands. Phil adjusted the new cloth—torn from his own shirt—before removing his hands with a sudden jerk. He rubbed his palms over the fabric of his pants and gazed at the stream.

Dan studied the new dressing in wonderment. “Thank you.” He looked up. “Are you sure you’re not a healer?”

Phil turned to Dan in surprise. “It’s not that great,” he spluttered. “I’m— My mother cared for everyone’s children. She knew a few remedies.” He looked away again, adopting a softer tone. “You know, for skinned knees and such.”

Dan nodded. “Hm, well, you’re not half bad. I mean, it looks right, anyway.”

“Thanks,” Phil muttered.

Dan dug in his pack. “Yeah, no problem. Hey, d’you want some of these before we get going again?” Dan held out a palmful of bright red berries.

“That’s our only food.”

“Yeah, but you said we’d be there by noon, right? That’s only a few hours from now. We can eat more when we get there.” He thrust the berries toward Phil again. “Take some.”

Phil plucked one from Dan’s palm and held it up for inspection. “What type is this?”

Dan paused, a berry hovering at his lips. “Um, a raspberry?”

“There aren’t any hairs on it.”

“So?” Dan replied weakly, lowering his hand. “I mean, it looks like a raspberry, doesn’t it?”

“No.”

“Well, is it something poisonous?”

Phil glared at the small red cluster for a second more then popped it into his mouth, chewing with a focused expression.

“Phil! What the hell?”

His brows shot up at the burst of flavor, and Dan watched his face fall with relief. “It’s a mulberry.” Phil stated, nodding once.

Dan blinked at him, frowning. “A what?”

“A mulberry,” Phil repeated. He gestured to Dan’s palmful of food. “They’re safe. You can eat one.”

Dan squinted at him, but his hunger got the best of him as he tossed one behind his teeth. He chewed quickly and hummed at the strange taste, somehow sweet and tart at the same time. “These are weird, but I think I like them.”

He watched Phil grab another without asking and chew it happily. He couldn’t hide the grin that pulled at the corners of his mouth, but he tried, leaning over the stream for another drink.

“So, has that been your problem this whole time? You aren’t a stone-faced warrior; you were just hungry?” Dan teased.

Phil’s shoulders tensed. “I’m not stone-faced.” He splashed some water onto his cheeks and rubbed his fingertips, already stained red with mulberry juice.

“Right, so that’s a yes, then?”

Phil chose to ignore the question. “We should get going. It’s only going to get hotter out here.” He picked up Dan’s pack, ensuring the water pouch was closed, and started jogging.

“Hey, hey, wait for me!” Dan scrambled for one last gulp of water before hurrying to catch up.

Sometime later, when the sun hung directly overhead and both men were trudging from shadow to shadow, Dan droned, “It’s noon.” His entire body was laden with fatigue. “ _Past_ noon. You said we’d be there by now.”

Phil pressed his lips into a thin line and ducked under another tree. Sticking to the shade, he dug around in Dan’s pack for the water pouch, opening the top and offering it stiffly. “Here.”

Dan joined him in the shadows and drank the water with a sigh of relief. He passed it back to Phil and wiped his mouth. Sweat dripped from his forehead and ran down the sides of his red-tinged face. “Right, tell me the truth. Are we lost?”

Phil took a few sips and closed the pouch, spending longer than necessary returning it to the pack.

“Phil?”

“We aren’t lost.” He insisted. He wiped his sweaty brow and brushed hair from his face.

Dan waited for him to elaborate, his arms crossed and foot tapping.

“The village is east. We’re walking east. We aren’t lost.”

“Any landmarks or whatever that we should be on the lookout for? You know, things to tell us we’re headed the right way...” He trailed off, hoping Phil would jump in. “Anything?”

Phil pursed his lips and shook his head, glancing away.

Dan looked like he could cry. “Goddamnit, Phil!” He whined. “Do you even know where you’re going? I’m tired, I’m hungry, I—”

Phil steeled his expression as he enunciated his stilted reply. “I know where I’m going, Dan.”

Dan’s shoulders drooped. “Do you, though? Really?” When Phil didn’t answer, he sucked in a deep breath and spread his arms, gesturing at their surroundings. “Where even are we? I mean, I sure as fuck don’t know. Do you?”

“Shut up,” Phil muttered.

“I mean, how can you not know? Last I checked, warriors memorized these paths like the backs of their hands. You act like you’ve never even set foot outside the village! I mean, seriously, what sort of warrior do you think you are?”

“Shut up!” Phil yelled, flushing red with embarrassment and frustration. He stamped his foot and balled his fists at his sides. Startled birds had raced from the trees at his outburst, sending leaves down to the forest floor in bunches. One such leaf settled delicately in Phil’s hair. He snatched it from his head and crushed it angrily. When he shook his hand to release it, the bright green remnants clung to his palm, embedded in the sticky juices now coating his skin. He drug his hand over his pants and sighed in defeat.

Dan watched him in stunned silence. For once, he didn’t know what to say. He met Phil’s eyes and hoped his expression conveyed an apology.

Phil relaxed a little. “I never said I was a warrior, okay? I worked in the armory. I overheard how to get to the village, but no, I’ve never been.” Phil looked pleadingly at Dan. “Alright?”

“Alright,” he answered. They stood in silence for a moment, until Dan continued, “All we know is east, so that’s where we’ll go.”

Phil nodded once and tilted his head to check the sun’s position. The foliage made it hard to see more than a few hot beams of light, so he reluctantly stepped away from the tree’s cool shadow. He needed a clear view to be absolutely sure of their direction.

A wave of sympathy passed over Dan, though he couldn’t cite a specific reason. Maybe it was the crack he’d struck in Phil stoic armor that forced untamed emotion to spill into the open. It reminded him of the savagery that overtook warriors at the frontlines of battle. They’d steel themselves and stomp stiffly into position. They were calm, collected, and patient. But, at the first sign of an attack, that resolve shattered and the wilding was unleashed. He looked at Phil and knew he was already piecing his metaphorical armor back together. The crack was closing. “You know, you kinda act like a warrior though, to be fair. You sure fooled me.” He pawed at the dirt. “Understandable mistake on my part, right?”

Phil shrugged but kept studying the sky. “My father and brother were warriors,” he stated, as if that explained it.

“Well, why not you?”

He raised an eyebrow and scrutinized Dan. Phil refused to be the only one oversharing. “Why not you?” He challenged.

Dan fumbled for a moment at the unexpected inquiry. “Oh, right, well, um, my parents were farmers, so I wasn’t really born into it. And, uh, then they all said I was too soft, that I wouldn’t be able to ‘do what needed doing.’” He quoted the elder warriors mockingly.

Phil nodded with a grunt. “That’s what my father told me.”

“Really?” He didn’t bother to mask his excitement for the commonality.

“He taught me to use a bow and arrow as a child, but I showed more interest in its creation than its lethality.” Phil paused and adjusted his messy hair. “He didn’t teach me anything else after that. I think he was disappointed, especially after my brother died.”

“Oh.” Dan twisted his fingers together and looked down. “What happened?”

“He was slain in battle by one of your people.” Phil was blunt but showed no hint of ill will. It was a common manner of death, glorious even.

“Oh,” Dan said again, eyes still on the forest floor padded with leaves.

Phil sighed and let his gaze fall from the sun. “I apologize. I don’t know—”

Suddenly, faraway voices filled the air. Dan and Phil turned to each other in sheer elation, their conversation forgotten at once.

“We made it!” Dan exclaimed, grabbing Phil’s hand and running towards the sounds. Unwavering hope coursed through his veins.

Phil felt his lips stretch into his first true smile in ages, though Dan was too distracted to witness it. He ran in front of Phil, clutching his hand and pulling him along excitedly. Together, they raced amongst the trees through both shadows and sweltering spots of sunlight. There was a visible clearing up ahead. The village couldn’t be far now.

Over Dan’s shoulder, Phil could just make out the structures, not unlike his home village. Wisps of smoke danced into the sky from the center firepit, probably produced by midday meal. His mouth watered. As they came closer, Phil felt a twist in his gut. Something was wrong. He squinted into the distance, inspecting the clearing for threats. As they crossed the outer treeline, it hit him.

“Stop!” He hissed, pulling Dan by the arm. He threw him behind a thick tree, pinning him against it roughly.

Dan struggled out of Phil’s grasp. “What the hell? Get off me! What’s the matter with you?”

“Look.” He pointed at the village only a few yards ahead. “What’s missing?”

Dan huffed. “I don’t kn— Oh.” His body drooped with the realization. It was all too quiet. “Where is everyone?”

The village, though seemingly intact, lacked any and all life. The center firepit smoldered with recent use, but there was no evidence of an attendant. The skins hanging over the huts snapped open in a gust of wind, revealing their uninhabited insides. No one walked the crisscrossing paths, no one tended to the penned animals, and no guards paced the perimeter. A softer breeze blew thin clouds of dirt through the desolate village, emphasizing its eerie vacuity.

Dan looked away and huddled closer to the tree. With his back to the trunk, he faced Phil, not two inches between them. He tried to calm his breathing as he felt tears gather, threatening to fall at the thought of his people’s suffering. He caught Phil’s stare and whispered, “Phil, what happened here?”

Phil could only offer a solemn frown and shake his head.

Voices rose again from the village and both men stiffened in alarm. Phil clenched his jaw and placed his hands on Dan’s shoulders as he peeked around the tree. Two men, much like those who had decimated Phil’s village, walked into view from behind a hut. They held strange guns that Phil hadn’t realized existed anymore. They glistened black and were large with silver barrels that came to a point. He knew he should recognize them from some story his grandfather had told, but he couldn’t remember. The men wore all black, but their clothes weren’t fringed with fur and didn’t show evidence of excessive use like his and Dan’s. Their oversized suits were made of some smooth material that clearly wasn’t skinned off an animal. Phil was baffled by it. He had seen their masks before, long ago in a drawing. His grandfather had called it a gas mask and said it protected weaker people. These men didn’t seem weak when they were wreaking havoc in village after village. He’d never thought to ask what made one man weak and another man strong. He suddenly wished he had. The men began speaking again, pulling Phil from his thoughts as he strained to listen. Their language, though similar, used strange cadences and intonations. It was minutes before he could follow along.

“...take them back, but I don’t know what use we’d have for them. They’re contaminated.” The man gestured to the pigpen.

The other masked man shrugged.

“Well, I give it an all-clear. Let’s go. I’d rather not be out after nightfall.”

His partner grunted in agreement.

“What’re they saying?” Dan whispered urgently.

“They’re leaving.”

Dan turned for a look, but Phil shoved him back against the tree and held him there. He pressed against him in an effort to minimize their visibility.

“Don’t be stupid,” Phil whispered against Dan’s neck. “They’re coming this way.”

Dan gripped Phil’s upper arms and shivered at the hot breath on his skin. He tried to control his breathing, but his pounding heart made it difficult. He closed his eyes and listened. Soon, he heard two sets of indelicate footsteps crunching over leaves. The masked men were plodding right towards them. Dan trembled as he heard Phil’s breath hitch in his throat. “Phil,” he breathed. “What do we do?” His words were almost silent, but with his lips at Phil’s ear, he made himself heard.

Phil rubbed the skin exposed at Dan’s shirt collar with his thumb and brushed his lips against his ear. “When I say, move to that side of the tree.” He squeezed Dan’s arm to indicate the right side.

Dan nodded, his brown hair tickling Phil’s cheek.

The masked men were getting closer, the crackle of crushed leaves loud in their ears. They would’ve felt each others’ thumping heartbeats if they weren’t so frightened. Dan bit his lip to quiet his breathing, and Phil stood stock still in his iron grip. The footsteps were impossibly close.

“Phil—”

“Now!”

With practiced skill, Phil moved them soundlessly around the tree and out of sight. The masked men passed, too busy making ridiculous amounts of noise to notice them. Once Phil could see their retreating backs, he forced Dan around the tree once more. He leaned against him, bracing his arms against the trunk to cage Dan in place. They both held their breath, listening to the footsteps fade away.

A full minute of silence passed, and Phil relaxed, exhaling quick, heavy breaths of relief. He felt Dan shake against him and pulled back just enough to see his face. Strands of his black hair tangled with Dan’s fringe, creating a thin link between them. Dan was laughing, silently at first then aloud. He dropped his forehead to Phil’s shoulder and dissolved into manic giggles. Phil could only stare in confusion.

“Dan, are you alright?”

He stuttered between giggles, “No, I just, I really thought they were going to kill us. We should be dead!” He lifted his head and wiped tears from his eyes. The tip of his nose was millimeters from Phil’s, and his one dimple disappeared as he willed his wild smile away.

Phil’s blue eyes were wide as he took in Dan’s reaction. “But, we aren’t. We’re alive.” Something flinched in his expression as the words left his mouth. The reality of the situation was dawning on him as well.

Dan sputtered a few more snickers before his laughter faded completely. He cleared his throat and whispered, “I know.” His eyelashes fluttered as he noticed the proximity of Phil’s lips, parted and waiting. “I know.”

They dove forward and crashed in the middle, lips rough and desperate against each other. Phil’s hand tangled in Dan’s dark hair as he was wrapped firmly in his arms. Phil shoved him against the tree and planted hungry kisses along his jaw, nipping at his tawny brown skin. Dan ran his hands over his back and gripped at him through his shirt, his leg twisting around Phil’s to tug him closer. Phil’s teeth grazed Dan’s lower lip, pulling on it and sucking hard. Dan groaned as he fumbled with the hem of Phil’s shirt, urging him to remove it. Suddenly, everything was too hot. Phil separated their lips and stepped back, breathing heavily with his hands still on Dan. He shook his head and stared at the ground.

“I ca—.” He cleared his throat. “Um, we need food and— and water. We should get out of the open.” He ruffled his hair and stepped away, turning toward the abandoned village.

Dan followed and clutched his arm. “Hey!”

Phil looked over his shoulder, his eyes shining with tears. His chest fell as he exhaled a soft breath.

“Phil, is everything okay?” Dan moved to stand in front of him, cupping Phil’s face in his hands.

“We should have followed them.”

“Who? Those men?” Dan shook his head violently. “I don’t think so. We don’t know enough about them. Who knows what we’d be getting into.”

Phil nodded in grim agreement. He let Dan pull him into a comforting embrace, and he hugged his torso tightly as he buried his face in Dan’s shoulder. “What if they’re all dead?” His words were thick with unshed tears. 

A few dreadful seconds dragged past, and Dan held his breath. Finally, he replied in a soothing voice, “What if they’re not?” He rubbed circles over Phil’s back and ignored the sweat dripping down the back of his own neck. “Your people are strong. They wouldn’t go down without a fight. Look, it’s like you said, if we work together, we can do this. We can find them.” Dan pulled back and lifted Phil’s chin with a finger. “But first, let’s get some food. I’m starving! It’s far too hard to strategize on an empty stomach.” Dan spied a small grin tugging at the corners of Phil’s mouth, and he knew he’d won him over. He stepped back and offered his hand.

Phil paused to think for a moment, but he accepted. Their fingers laced together naturally, his snowy skin providing stark contrast to Dan’s olive tone. Phil willed the tears away, squared his shoulders, and stood tall. “Let’s go.”

Dan’s lips spread into a broad smile. As they walked, he bumped Phil’s shoulder playfully. “You know, there’s almost always hope.” 

Phil smiled, though Dan couldn’t see, and squeezed his hand to let him know he hadn’t given up hope just yet. They entered the village side by side and hand in hand.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment below. I'd love to know what you think!
> 
> You can also find my fics on Tumblr at doctor-martell.


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